


Must have been the rain

by Pixxit



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-04
Updated: 2007-07-04
Packaged: 2019-09-15 02:53:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16925157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixxit/pseuds/Pixxit
Summary: Yuuta's umbrella is a piece of shit.  Mizuki thinks it's not so bad.





	Must have been the rain

 

He shook the umbrella hard as the fourth drop of rain splashed against the back of Mizuki's smooth, ivory neck. He felt anxious, as if time were running out.

"Yuuta-kun," he began, stepping closer to Yuuta and hunching his shoulders. "My hair is going to get wet."

"I know, Mizuki-san, and I'm sorry. I don’t know what's wrong with this thing," Yuuta said, shaking the umbrella a little harder and cursing under his breath when the hard edge of the catch pressed too deeply into his thumb.

Glancing up sheepishly, he shrugged a little. "It's not mine," he explained, as though his lack of true ownership absolved him of any real guilt.

Mizuki frowned and touched his bangs. His fingers came away sticky and he frowned again. "Nomura's? All of his belongings look second-hand."

"No, Mizuki-san," Yuuta said, glaring censoriously at Mizuki. "You shouldn't say things like that about people. How would you like it if people said things like about you?"

Snorting delicately, Mizuki turned – back-to-back with Yuuta now – and tipped his head back to face the sky. "How could they? I think it's obvious that nothing I own is cheap."

Yuuta hissed, sucking at the edge of his thumb as he smacked the umbrella against his knee. "That's only because your parents have mortgaged their land twice over to send you here. Don't be a snob, Mizuki-san."

Falling silent, Mizuki bowed his head. Sometimes he forgot himself with Yuuta. As comfortable as he felt being around him and as much as he truly liked him, it was all too easy to slip back into routine. Into _the act_. Yuuta was the only one who knew the truth about Mizuki – that he didn't come from money and that his family would never be the higher echelon – and Mizuki rather liked that his secret rested where it did. That it was only Yuuta who knew, however, made it necessary for him to protect the façade with everyone else. To the rest of the team – to the rest of the school – Mizuki was mysterious and well-off and fascinating. He was a good leader and a good teacher and he had confidence and grace and style in spades.

He didn't apologize, as he knew Yuuta would never expect that he might. He simply maintained his silence while rain fell on his hands and his face. When it began to rain – really rain – they'd be soaked. It was certainly not an ideal situation as far as Mizuki was concerned.

"Perhaps we should just run for it," Mizuki suggested, turning again to hover just at Yuuta's back. If he dared, he could lean in and just rest his chin at Yuuta's shoulder and while it wasn't as exciting as the thought of Yuuta's arms tight around him, it was uplifting enough to make Mizuki close his eyes and almost smile.

"Piece of _shit_ ," Yuuta muttered, shaking the umbrella violently. "Yeah, we could do that. You'll get soaked, though, and you're wearing your favorite shirt."

Ducking his head so that his curls brushed Yuuta's shoulder, Mizuki muffled his amusement, secret that it had to be. "And how do you know, Yuuta-kun, that this is my favorite shirt?"

Glancing over his shoulder, clearly taken aback, Yuuta stuttered, tripping over whatever words he'd intended to offer. "Eh? Oh, uh…well, I guess…you wear it a lot…"

Mizuki chuckled, resting one hand at Yuuta's shoulder as the rain began to truly fall. He took note of the faint blush at Yuuta's cheeks and the way the tips of his ears reddened even as he attempted to cover up his sudden embarrassment. Mizuki flustered Yuuta and he knew it. What Yuuta hadn't yet reached was the realization that Mizuki _relished_ watching Yuuta lose his composure through nothing more significant than Mizuki's proximity.

"Yuuta-kun," Mizuki murmured, tugging at the back of Yuuta's shirt and meeting his eyes as Yuuta obeyed, turning slowly to face him. "It's no use. We're just going to have to get wet."

Brows drawn, Yuuta glanced around quickly – they were yet a few blocks from the school – and Mizuki recognized that moment in which Yuuta realized that there was no immediate shelter. The few trees that lined the walk wouldn't offer much shelter, as their branches were nearly bare for the impending threat of winter.

Scowling as he was, it was hard for Mizuki to turn his eyes away. Indeed, he was barely able to prevent himself from lifting his hand to touch Yuuta's scar. He looked at it often, but never dared to touch him in so familiar a manner.

Finally, Yuuta dropped the broken umbrella and silently cursed Yanagisawa for loaning him his piece of crap umbrella. He had to know it didn't even fricking _open.._

_'Looks like rain, Yuuta-kun. Better take an umbrella, dane? Oh? You don't have one? Take mine, dane.'_

Tricky bastard.

He glanced down, taking in the sight of Mizuki's dress shoes and knowing that he'd never be able to keep up with Yuuta. Or, even worse, he'd scuff them in the doing of it and Yuuta would never hear the end of it.

Sighing heavily, he slipped his arms out of the oversized windbreaker he wore and met Mizuki's eyes almost bashfully when he stepped even closer to hold the jacket over the both of them. Covering Mizuki so protectively put him in immediate shadow, but Yuuta didn't miss the fleeting surprise in his senpai's oddly pretty eyes. And they were, he realized. _Pretty_.

"But…," Mizuki began, blinking up at Yuuta in an attempt to guess at his thoughts.

Yuuta shrugged. "How long can it last, really?"

Mizuki didn't answer and, instead, wrapped his arms around himself when he leaned hesitantly toward Yuuta. He was warm and solid and his t-shirt smelled like Mizuki's cologne. Mizuki smiled.

Tipping his head, Yuuta realized that if he lowered his arms, he'd almost have them around Mizuki's shoulders. He blushed and tried to stand just that much taller.

"Is this okay?" he asked, shielding Mizuki from the wind even as he knew how unutterably ridiculous this all was. Their pants and socks were going to be soaked through by the time the rain subsided.

Mizuki nodded and Yuuta shivered when the backs of Mizuki's arms brushed against his chest. This was good training, he told himself, having to hold his arms aloft this way. It was likely the reason Mizuki seemed so amenable to this impractical solution. Probably. Maybe.

"This is okay," Mizuki said; cheek brushing Yuuta's shoulder. He kept his hands to himself.

Yuuta closed his eyes. He'd think about all this later. Much later, when he was alone in his room and Mizuki was alone in his and still all that he would be able to recall was the way Mizuki smelled and the way his chest rose and fell when he breathed and how embarrassingly inappropriate Yuuta's reaction had truly been.

He thought, at one point, that Mizuki had whispered his name, but when he didn't answer and it didn't come a second time, Yuuta told himself that he'd been mistaken.

It must have been the rain, Yuuta reasoned. Just the rain, and that was all.


End file.
